Red Flags (6 page)

She looked at me with inebriation and anger
in her eyes. “Cara, when I said I wanted you to find a guy, I
didn’t mean I wanted you to lose me in the process.”

My heart broke hearing this. Chelsea had been
my best friend for the past four years. I knew she was partially
drunk so her emotions we all over the place, but I couldn’t help
but feel a bit for her for thinking that I was replacing her with
Jason.

I looked at Hunter, who took his cue from my
expression and grabbed Chelsea’s hand.

“Hey baby. Let’s go lay down. We can do
Gaslamp another night. I think you’re tired and need to relax.”

Chelsea looked up at me, then at Hunter, and
then back at me. “Have a fabulous fucking night with your uber rich
boyfriend Cara.”

Just as she said this, Jason walked out of my
room with a duffle bag. I silently prayed that he didn’t hear her
comment, and when he didn’t even bother to look in her direction, I
sighed inwardly at an argument averted. I knew Chelsea well, and
while her mouth was usually on high alert when she was sober,
drunk, her mouth was unbearable.

“What’s that Jason?” I asked.

He smirked at me and lowered his eyes. “It’s
your stuff, to stay the night.”

Hunter led Chelsea back to her room, to leave
us to a bit of privacy.

“Jason, what the hell?

“What the hell what? And could you please
refrain from cursing, it’s very unladylike.”

He knew I was irritated and yet, in his own
condescending way, he egged it on.

“Nothing, let’s just go.” I started to walk
for the door when he caught up to me and grabbed my hand. “You have
my friend pissed at me -- you were pissed at me. Best to get out of
here before I manage to piss anyone else off.”

He turned me around to face him, kissed my
forehead, and then tugged me by the hand and lead me out of the
apartment.

<>

The drive from SSDU to La Jolla was normally
a 20 minute drive, but with Friday night traffic, it easily turned
into an hour. A guitar filled classic song was blared on the radio.
Jason had been attentive to the road, and by my own assumptions, he
sensed my mood, so he didn’t say much -- besides singing along to
the song.

I finally had enough of the avoidance, so I
broke the stalemate. “So why was it so important for me to come to
your place tonight?”

He looked at me with a nervous glance and
then looked back to the road.

“Jason, answer me!” I really hated being
ignored.

“Well, my dear, if you must know, then you
will just have to sit still for another 10 minutes or so and you
will surely find out.” He smiled a very arrogant smile, as if he
knew that I was going to be thrilled by whatever he had
planned.

I sat back in my seat and sang along to the
tune as well.

A few moments later, we exited the freeway.
The closer we got to Jason’s house, the more vibrant his mood
became. It was infectious, as I was beginning to allow the anger
that had built up inside of me to subside.

After what seemed like a trip through the
world’s largest maze, we pulled up to a one story, white stone
house, with a driveway that felt like it was the length of the
Charger’s football field. The grass on either side of it was the
perfect hue of hunter green, and cut to perfection. If I wasn’t
mistaken, it even had designs in it. There were small lights
bordering the lawn, and in the middle of the yard, on the right
hand side was a large water fountain statue.

Jason clicked the remote control to the
garage and pulled the Raptor into its space. He had a three car
garage on this house, and as we pulled up, I wondered why he needed
all of this space. The truck was parked next to what looked like a
Mustang. It had to have been a special edition, because it was
unlike most Mustangs that I had seen on the road.

Finally, next to the Mustang was a
motorcycle. Jason’s story of living the life of a student and not
having much, crept back into my mind. His idea of slumming it was
drastically different from anything that I knew.

I sensed Jason was filled with glee, and he
could see it in my eyes as well. He parked the truck, grabbed my
hand and kissed it.

“I wanted you here tonight so that I could
show you my life, and try to make you a part of it.”

My words failed me -- I had nothing to say,
so I just sat there quietly trying to take it all in. Jason hopped
out of the truck, came around to my side, and opened my door. I
jump down into his waiting arms, and he kissed me.

“This is my baby, my Shelby GT500. This is
all I wanted in life, and my dad made me work my ass off, but I
finally got her -- about three months ago.” I smiled, taking in her
beauty. “She’s brand new, and I don’t drive her much, but I have
plans for her and you… my girls are going to be close.”

“I thought this was some sort of special
Mustang, I don’t see many of these on the road.”

Jason was overcome with excitement, and I
even thought I saw a twinkle in his eyes.

“Nope, you won’t. With all of the extras my
dad and I added to her, she was well over $60,000.”

My mouth dropped. Who pays $60,000 for a
vehicle? I could buy five of my Civic for that price.

Jason continued on with his excitement filled
tour of his baby. He opened the inside and had me sit down. This
was one impressive car. He was going on and on about it being a
5.8L V8 engine and some other nonsense that I neither understood
nor cared about. I noticed that the car was a convertible, which I
loved. The inside was all black leather, with more gadgets than
should be allowed, just the like Raptor. I sensed a trend in his
choice of vehicles: they were both Fords and both silver.

“So, you love your Fords huh?”

“Hell yeah! American made baby!”

I suddenly felt guilty for driving around in
my Civic. In my defense, the car was bought by my parents because
they felt it was safe and reliable – not to mention affordable.

He took me by the hand, shut the door to the
Shelby, and walked me over to the impressive motorcycle sitting on
its own -- with two helmets draped over the handlebars.

“This is my Harley CVO Breakout, and I’m
ready to take you out on her tonight.”

I had never been on a motorcycle due to the
fact that I have overly paranoid parents who swear these things are
nothing but death machines. I was impressed by this one. So much
chrome, it smelled of fresh polish. The leather seats were polished
to perfection. This was a remarkable bike, and regardless of my
parents’ constant warnings fluttering through my head, I was ready
to ride.

I took one of the helmets, put it on my head,
tightened the straps, and took a seat on the back of the bike.
Jason eyed me with excited curiosity.

“Come on Mr. Bradley, take me on a ride.”

“Haha,” he laughed. “You ain’t goin ridin
like that. Come inside, I got something for you to ride in.”

What? He has something for me to ride in?
When did he have time to do this? How does he know my size? I was
curious, but at the moment, I was far too excited to argue, so I
followed him into the house.

I remembered that I still had the helmet on
my head and started to remove it when Jason pulled out his
cellphone and stopped me.

“Smile.” He snapped a picture of me in the
house with his motorcycle helmet on then took the helmet off of me
and told me to make myself at home while he got my attire.

I was dumbstruck in his house. The inside was
equally extraordinary, just like the outside. There were cathedral
ceilings and travertine tile throughout the house. The kitchen was
probably the size of my entire apartment, with nothing but
stainless steel appliances. It was an open floor plan that led
directly into the living room. It was an astounding living room. It
too was floored in travertine tile, but had black rugs to bring in
a cozier feel. The fireplace, which was probably double the size of
any normal fireplace, was sitting in the right corner of the room,
facing the kitchen. There was a black leather sectional that
resembled movie theater seating facing an oversized television that
was mounted on the wall.

I took a walk over to the mantle of the
fireplace to see photos of Jason and his family. He had a brother,
who looked almost identical to him. His mom was a beautiful blonde,
dressed impeccably, and his dad looked every bit the oil tycoon. I
saw a picture of a very cute little blond haired, blue eyed toddler
playing at a park. I wondered who the little girl was, but just as
my thoughts started to carry me away, Jason walked in with a pair
of black boots, and a black leather riding jacket.

“Here you go.” He was wildly eyeing me while
handing them to me, awaiting my excitement.

“Thanks. How did you know my size?”

“While you were in the shower yesterday, I
browsed around.”

Suddenly, I was struck by his immoral
snooping and troubling honesty.

“Jason, that’s not okay. You were snooping in
my closet?”

He looked at me incredulously. “I wouldn’t
call it snooping. I call it doing my homework. I knew I wanted to
take you out for a ride, so I thought you might like to have proper
gear. I went and picked it up today, that’s why I was late getting
to your game.”

Hearing his reasoning took a bite out of my
anger, so I disregarded his wicked attempts at romanticism, and
just went along with it. He had obviously put a great deal of
effort into this surprise, so I just went with the flow.

I put on my boots, my jacket, and my helmet.
Jason was dressed just the same, and if it were even possible,
looked even more appetizing than earlier. There was something about
him in all black that just made my heart beat to a reckless
drum.

We went out to the garage where Jason dug
into a trunk and pulled out two brand new sets of riding gloves. He
handed me a set, put on a pair himself, then sat on the bike and
started it up.

The roar of the engine was enough to send
shock waves through my body. I was so excited, yet scared all at
the same time. He shot me his charismatic grin and motioned for me
to hop on the back of the bike, to which I happily obliged.

We made our way down the forever long
driveway, back down to La Jolla Blvd and rode along the coast. The
crisp San Diego night air felt refreshing against my face, while
the engine hummed beneath me. There was no better feeling than
riding on the back of the motorcycle, staring at the twinkling
lights, hearing the waves of the ocean, and gripping my man tight
from behind.

I couldn’t believe I was on a motorcycle and
thoughts of my dad and his warnings filled my head. “Cara, those
things are death machines, you would be best to avoid them.”

I quickly shook the thought out of my head.
How could this be a death machine? I was in a state of euphoria,
and felt like I was sailing through the clouds. Jason yelled over
the roar of the engine to check on me.

“You okay?”

“Yes!” I quickly replied, with probably too
much enthusiasm, but I didn’t care.

As we started our trip back to the house, I
lay my head on Jason’s back. The anger that I had with him earlier
had disappeared. Who could be angry after this?

We pulled back into the driveway. Jason hit
the remote to the garage, and pulled the bike inside.

“So what did you think? First time on a
bike?”

“Yes, it was my first time. My dad isn’t too
keen on motorcycles, so I was never allowed on one. I loved
it.”

“Are you still mad at me for not wanting to
go to Gaslamp?” He asked smugly.

“No I’m not. This definitely beats Gaslamp,”
and just as I finished my answer, he leaned in and planted an
emotionally charged kiss right on my lips.

“Well, let’s get you inside, this night isn’t
over.”

“What else do you have planned?”

“No questions Cara. Just go inside. Go down
the hallway, last door on the left is my bedroom. There’s something
in there for you to change into.”

I had no clue what was up his sleeve, but I
was too excited to question him, so I ran inside to go and change.
Along the walls leading to his bedroom were more family photos.
There was a picture of him with his parents, one with him and his
brother, another family photo, and another picture of the cute
little toddler from the living room. I decided I would ask about
his family when I got a moment.

Entering Jason’s bedroom was like walking
into a king’s domain. There were two fireplaces, a large television
mounted on the wall, a king sized bed that sat on an oversized
black rug, and a dresser that was probably larger than most
people’s kitchen tables. The travertine had extended into his room
as well.

On the bed was an all-white two piece bikini.
There were ruffles on the top and bottoms, giving it a very
feminine and flirty feel. It felt much too expensive and when I
looked at the tag, it said it was from Sauvage. I had never heard
of the company before and for good reason; the top alone cost $92.
My mind started wondering who in their right mind paid this much
money for a few specs of material? The bottoms were no better at
$88. I was floored, and I felt like the wind had been knocked out
of me. This was a hideously expensive swim suit.

Jason knocked on the door and before I could
say anything, he let himself in.

“Do you like it?” he asked, cautiously.

“I... um…” I was at a loss for words. “I
guess I do.”

He looked at the swim suit, then back to me.
“If it’s the price that concerns you, then let that go.”

“How can I Jason? We’re so new and you’re
spending hundreds of dollars on a few scraps of fabric. I don’t
want you thinking you have to impress me with your money.”

“I don’t think that. I just liked it, so I
bought it, simple as that. Now, stop over analyzing everything and
come out to the back yard, I have something else to show you.” He
sounded very demanding at this point, so I took the swimsuit and
got dressed.